


The Summer She Got Sick

by Would_die_for_fitzsimmons



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Diabetes, F/M, Not Canon Compliant, Post-Season/Series 07, Sickfic, totally not self projecting, type one diabetes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-20
Updated: 2021-01-20
Packaged: 2021-03-18 09:35:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,624
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28864893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Would_die_for_fitzsimmons/pseuds/Would_die_for_fitzsimmons
Summary: Jemma was startled awake by the incessant beeping of an iv pump. She took a gasping breath, all of a sudden reliving the nightmare that had brought them here.
Relationships: Alya Fitz & Jemma Simmons, Alya Fitz & Leo Fitz, Leo Fitz & Jemma Simmons, Leo Fitz & Skye | Daisy Johnson, Leo Fitz/Jemma Simmons, Phil Coulson & Jemma Simmons, Phil Coulson & Leo Fitz
Comments: 13
Kudos: 37





	The Summer She Got Sick

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you sooooooooo much to my wonderful beta May!

Jemma was startled awake by the incessant beeping of an iv pump. She took a gasping breath, all of a sudden reliving the nightmare that had brought them here.

A nurse gently knocked as he pushed open the door, he gave her a quick smile before fiddling with the machine connected to the sleeping child in the bed. She looked so small – swallowed by the masses of wires and tubes attached to her body.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It had been a swelteringly hot summer, filled with long days and ice cream. Alya had barely drank water in summers previous, she had been too busy exploring or making or doing any one of the million more important things. Maybe that’s why Jemma and Fitz had been almost relieved when she had asked for water. Then more. And more. And more.  
“Glad the little monkey's started drinking?” Fitz had joked one evening when they were lying in bed.

“Immeasurably so.” she had returned with a gentle scoff, “although we should probably start giving her juice instead… too much water knocks your electrolytes out of balance.”

Fitz snorted, “Nerd.”

Jemma rolled her eyes with a soft huff and leaned over to kiss him.

<>

When the weather finally cooled down enough to do anything other than complain about the heat, they started taking trips to the nearby park.  
It was when Alya wanted to play chase that Fitz noticed the weight she had lost; ultimately he wasn’t worried – that was until of course he realised that he could feel her sharp ribs much more prominently with every week, even day that passed.

It didn’t seem to make sense. She was certainly eating plenty – that was never an issue when Coulson was cooking. 

_I'll have to keep an eye on it. Best not to tell Jemma – she’s got enough on her plate._ Fitz thought to himself.

<>

Jemma looked up at the soft knock on the door, smiling as she saw Fitz had brought her lunch.

“Hungry?” he asked, placing the plate on the desk beside her laptop.

“God, I'm starving Fitz,” she replied, “where's Alya?” realising that the girl was nowhere to be seen.

“Still asleep.”

Jemma worried her, bottom lip, deep in thought. 

“You okay Jem?” he said, putting a reassuring hand on her shoulder. 

“Yeah, just… just thinking.”

<>

Alya got worse.

The pediatrician said it was probably just a flu. 

And worse.

Then he said it was a sick bug.

And worse.

Until that fateful day that neither Fitz nor Simmons would ever forget.

It had started the same as every day seemed to; Fitz would get out of bed at 6:50 to make the tea, followed by Jemma at 7:00 – who would try to coax Alya out of bed.  
That day she had begrudgingly reached up to be carried to her seat at the breakfast bar in the base’s kitchen. She rested her forehead on the cool countertop, sighing at the momentary relief it gave her from her fever. Fitz rubbed her back and glanced desperately at Jemma.

“Hey sunshine, do you want to spend the day with Mummy or Daddy today?” she asked, walking over to the girl.

Alya shrugged her shoulders before sitting up and making grabby hands at Fitz. He effortlessly plucked her from the seat – still shocked by how little there was to her these days.

“Well,” he began, “Mummy is in the lab, and Daddy is going to be designing some gear with Uncle Mack. So how about you stay with me and you can nap on the comfy sofas in our meeting room?”

The girl nodded and snuggled into Fitz's chest.

<>

It hadn’t been a bad day for Alya as far as Fitz could tell. He had gone to get her some lunch from the kitchen and left her drawing alone in the meeting room. He balanced the tray in one hand, stopping in to give Jemma a coffee on his way to the lift. Daisy caught him just before he could call it so she could discuss the new gauntlet prototype he had given her to train with. He stayed for a while until he saw the time flash up on his watch.

“Can I talk to you later Daisy? I’ve got a very hungry monkey sat at a table for me down there and I don’t really want to keep her waiting for too much longer… she’s finally starting to perk up!”

He bid her goodbye and stepped into the lift, rocking on his heels slightly as it descended down to the basement.

“You hungry Monkey? I managed to find you some chocolate yogurt!” he called out to his daughter as he left the lift and began walking down the hallway.

No answer. 

That was odd.

“Alya? You alright?” he called a little louder, jogging towards the door now; anxious to check on her.

5 more steps.

4 more steps.

3 more.

2.

1.

Then he saw her, sprawled on the carpeted floor – crayon still in her hand.

“ALYA!” he screamed as he tossed the tray to the floor, rushing to his unconscious daughter. He shook her shoulders but to no avail. Fitz's hands trembled as he pressed two fingers to her neck; sighing in relief as he found a weak pulse. He scooped her up and ran all the way to the lab.

“Jemma?!” he shouted into the door, voice cracking in desperation. “Don’t just stand there you idiots, bloody get Jemma…. NOW!”

<>

One of the lab techs called an ambulance while another informed Coulson.

It arrived as Jemma, Coulson and Fitz – still holding onto Alya – were stood on the sidewalk. It was almost in an instant that she had been loaded onto a stretcher and a paramedic with a gruff voice was telling them they had to follow behind. Jemma gasped outa sob and tugged on Fitz's hand, trying to pull him to their car.

“No.” Coulson uttered from behind, “I'll drive you.”

They sped at least 15 over the speed limit, following behind the ambulance all the way to the hospital – terrifyingly unaware of what was happening to their daughter. When they finally pulled up, Alya was being brought into the hospital, still unconscious. They ran behind her stretcher until they came to a stop. A nurse was stood in-between them and the doors their daughter had just been wheeled through.

Jemma tried to push past her but she moved to block her way.

“I need to see my daughter.” she almost growled at the woman, trying to look intimidating despite the tears dripping down her face. 

“I know you do, but she needs those doctors in there right now. I’ll take you two into a room and we can talk, yeah?” the nurse said, sympathetic but firm. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

That was how they ended up in a small room in the intensive care unit, talking to Alya – unsure if she would ever wake up. The nurse had explained everything to them, how Alya was a type one diabetic, and their lives would never be the same. But they would manage. 

They always had.

A knock on the door woke Jemma from her trance-like state and a tall doctor walked in.

“How's the little lady doing?” the woman asked, walking up to Alya's bed.

“I mean I obviously can’t really tell you, but… she looks better to me.” Jemma smiled.

Fitz sat up from the uncomfortable fold-out bed and yawned, resting his chin on his closed fist and smiling groggily at Jemma.

“Perfect timing as always, Fitz…” she quipped, before quickly turning her attention back to the doctor.

“So, ” she began, “you’ve obviously had a lot to process over the last day, so what I'm going to do is give you guys a quick rundown, then I can have one of our diabetes educators come down to show you the ropes.”

They simply nodded in response, interlacing their fingers as she spoke.

"As you now know, your daughter is a type one diabetic. This is quite serious, and will take a lot of getting used to. However, with the right guidance, I'm sure you will be able to live happily and comfortably." The doctor told them, "Obviously you’re going to need to make a lot of adjustments to your lives and routines. To start with, a blood sugar finger prick at least 5 times a day - more if her sugar levels are unstable. Two shots of long acting insulin a day as well as shots of short acting insulin whenever she eats or has high sugars.”

The pair only nodded once more, taking in the onslaught of vital information that they were given.

“Now then, I’ll leave the three of you alone to process. Is it okay if I page an educator to come up in 30 minutes or so?” The woman asked  
“Of course.” Fitz responded, stifling another yawn.

When the doctor had left, Jemma glanced over at Fitz, who smiled back wearily.

"We will figure it out." she said, reassuring herself as much as her husband. 

Fitz stood up, walking over to his daughter's bedside. "Together." he promised. Then he sat down next to his daughter, gently tucking the blanket around her frail shoulders. The girl sighed softly before settling again. 

Jemma joined Fitz at their daughter's side, laying a hand on his shoulder. 

"She's not broken. Just different." 

"Different isn't broken," Fitz echoed, looking up with hope in his eyes. They would get through this, because their daughter wasn't broken.  
She was different, definitely. People changed all the time. They would have to adjust things around the house, cook differently, but that was hardly a problem. They'd been through a lot worse. 

Together, they would learn, and they would get through this as a family.


End file.
